


In Case You'd Forgotten

by waddyaknow



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Police, Cunnilingus, F/M, Grinding, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waddyaknow/pseuds/waddyaknow
Summary: Luck can only take you so far. Though, sometimes, that's just far enough to end up having a heart-to-heart with the man you might or might not have a crush on, who, in turn, might or might not also have a crush on you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr, and then again as chapters in a collection here on AO3.  
> Went ahead and posted it as its own piece because it ended up so long (at least for my standards!)
> 
> Based on a request received on Tumblr.

_Anonymous said:_

_SO! Lets imagine 76 as a modern day cop. While majority of his fellow cops are like him, middle aged and disgruntled with life, there is the newly initiated F!Reader! In the beginning, he's not a fan. Too naive. Too brash. Too damn stubborn. And definitely too much like him. And as much as he wanted to keep away from her, there wasn't much he could do when the chief assigned them as partners._

_He tries to get away from her, truly. He complains to the chief, grumbling out that he works better alone. The man in charge only rolls his eyes, telling him that if wishes were horses, than beggars would be riders. So he does what he does best: sucks it up, and tries his hardest to ignore her when she's there. It doesn't help that she's a funny wise ass, or that her fresh eyes finds things that he may have otherwise overlooked. It also doesn't help that she's just drop dead beautiful._

_Anyone with eyes could've seen that, but he knows better than to try anything. Who'd want an old, washed up man like him? But that doesn't stop his fellow cops. He sees the looks. Hears the comments. So maybe he's a little protective of her. So what? No one here deserves her. At least that's what he tells himself as he glowers at anyone who stares too long. But of course, she notices. She jokes. "You gonna be my knight in shining armor, Jack?" He can't protect her from everything._

_She comes in harm's way, but not in the way he expects. It's not a bullet whizzing by too close. It's not a perp being too rough. It comes in the form of a new and young rookie. Michael. Michael's a decent enough guy. Good at what he does. Respectful. Jack hates him. He sees them laughing everyday, becoming closer and closer. He sees that hopeful look on his face when he asks her out, which is completely opposite of his own dejected one. So he does what he does best; he ignores it._

_He can see their relationship deepening, so Jack ignores it. Ignores her. He no longer laughs at her God awful jokes. They don't go for drinks after a rough case. And of course she notices. She pleads with him to tell her what's wrong, only receiving a grimace of a smile and a firm, "Nothing, sweetheart." She hounds her fellow cops incessantly, only receiving raised eyebrows and shrugs. Has she done something wrong? Has something happened? She's frustrated. Angry. So she becomes reckless._

_She just doesn't care anymore. She gets a little rough with perps. Goes into dangerous locations without any backup. Jack notices, immediately cornering her and asking what the hell is going on. She pushes at his shoulders while sneering in his face, asking him why he cares. It's not like they were friends anymore. He hurt her. Could he not tell that she loved him? That whenever she saw him, her eyes lit up? That Michael was just a sorry excuse to feel up an aching hole in her heart?_

_Her luck could only carry her so far. She sits in the infirmary, nursing a swollen lip and a cut beneath her eye. She's tired from the chief reprimanding her from earlier, and she just wants to sleep. But life seems to have other ideas. Jack steps in, his face marred in disappointment and concern. She asks what he wants - why is he even here? Jack steps closer, reminding her that they're still partners and that he cares about her. She huffs in amusement, eyes cast downward. She cries. "So?"_

_She asks what does him visiting do if he won't even talk to her? That he barely gives her a passing glance? She's crying harder, wiping at her nose. It's the last question that hits Jack the hardest - "Did I do something wrong?" Before she notices, he's enveloped her in a hug. He tells her that she's done nothing wrong. That he'd nearly crashed his car when the Chief paged in that she had gotten hurt. He whispers that he could not live without her. She smiles, asking if that's a proposal._

_The question flusters Jack, making him step back but he keeps his arms wrapped around her midsection. He's flushed and from how close they are, he can tell that she is too. She calls his name softly, and the air between them shifts. It's as if time stops as they learn closer to each other, lips nearly inches away. He wants to kiss her so badly, what if she doesn't feel the same way? What if -- she closes the distance, wrapping her arms around his neck._

 

_#_

 

 

The moment Jack heard you got hurt, he knew he’d messed up. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed your increasingly reckless behavior; he’d have to be an idiot not to. Still, he should have paid better attention, insisted you take better care of yourself. Ignoring and pushing you away had never been the answer but, like a fool, he’d done it anyway.

It hurt too much to see you with Michael. Hurt to see you fall in love with someone that wasn’t him. It was selfish, and he knew that. That’s why he could never let it spill just how much he cared for you. That’s why, even after you plead him to tell you what’s wrong, he keeps his mouth shut.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” was all he said.

In hindsight, that was the wrong decision. Because you stopped caring, acting out by being too rough and going into dangerous situations without back-up. You didn’t see the point. It didn’t matter that you got hurt. Frankly, you didn’t care.

When Jack demanded to know what the hell was going on, you pushed him away. Shoved him by the shoulders and asked why the hell he cared.

“It’s not like we’re friends anymore,” you spat.

Alas, your luck could only carry you so far.

You’re about ready to cry when Jack steps into the infirmary, barely sparing him a glance as he walks towards you.

With a trembling voice, you ask, “What do you want?”

“We’re still partners,” he says as he steps closer. “In case you’d forgotten.”

You snort in return and shake your head before defiantly looking away. Is that what he called it? Ignoring you more often than not was his idea of  _being partners_? Your swollen lip starts quivering as you will yourself not to cry.

Jack’s heart breaks for you. You used to be so young and full of life, but that barely shone through anymore. It wasn’t like you to be this reckless, you were smarter than this. With a shuddering breath, he let his shoulders fall from their tense position and softened his stoic demeanor.

“What were you thinking?” It was barely above a whisper.

“Why do you care?”

The venom in your voice stung far worse than any bullet. “Because I care about you.”

You huff in amusement and cast your eyes to the floor as exhaustion finally breaks your will. The tears you’d so desperately tried to hold back slowly starts to spill, and before long they’re steadily running down your cheeks.

“You’re such a liar,” you sneer. “You won’t talk to me, you can barely even look at me! That’s not what  _caring_  is, Jack.”

“I–”

“I don’t understand!” You’re so, so tired; physically exhausted from getting your ass handed to you, mentally torn after being reprimanded by the chief for an hour straight, but most of all you’re tired of bottling up all these feelings. You never  _truly_ loved Michael. It wasn’t him your eyes lit up to see, and it certainly wasn’t him your heart ached for. It was Jack. It always had been, and it hurt that he couldn’t tell.

With a sob, you raise the palm of your hand to your face in an attempt to dry your tears, wincing as you accidentally touch the cut on your cheek. “Did I…do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

All the air left his lungs. No.  _God,_ no. He couldn’t let you think that. This wasn’t your fault, this was all on him.

“Jack–”

Whatever you were about to say got lost as he locks his strong arms around you. He holds you as close as he possibly can and buries your face in his uniform’s jacket. Any barrier keeping you from breaking down crumbles, and within seconds you’re sobbing into the crook of his neck, staining his jacket with spit and tears.

“No,” he whispers. “You never did anything wrong.”

Entwining one hand in your hair, he hushes you. “When the Chief told me you got hurt, I ran every red light just to get here. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry you got hurt. I should have been there with you, I should have stopped you.”

Jack was so  _warm_. In his arms, it felt like nothing in the world could harm you. You’d stay like this forever, if you could.

“You could have been killed,” he says. “I could have lost you.” His chest tightens at the thought. Losing you was the one thing he couldn’t bear to do. “I can’t live without you.”

Through a choked sob, you laugh. Skeptically, Jack furrows his brows and loosens his strong embrace just enough to see the weak smile on your lips.

“That a proposal, Morrison?”

For a second, he couldn’t think. The question takes him by enough surprise to force him a small step backward, if only to really get a look at you. Behind all the tears and pain, there she was. The witty girl he fell in love with. You were so close to him and all he wanted to do was hold you closer.

The air was growing heavier by the second, and his heart steadily beating faster. The hands on your midsection struggle not to dig into you, and he can clearly see that you’re just as flushed as he is.

“Jack…” Time stops. The way you whisper his name sends jolts of electricity rushing through his body. You start leaning towards him, and, almost unconsciously, he does the same. You’re so close you’re breathing each other’s breaths. God, your lips were only inches away. It would be so easy to just–

“I think I’d like to go home now.” He stops.

 

 

 

Idiot.

 

 

 

His heart drops to his stomach. He was such an  _idiot_. How could he even begin to think that you wanted him? You already had Michael. You didn’t need an old, washed up man like him.

He squeezes his eyes together almost painfully and looks away in shame, no longer able to look you in the eyes.  _Damn it_. God fucking  _damn it_. How could he be so  _stupid_?

Your hand slides up his jaw until you’re cupping his cheeks. Slowly, you turn his head back towards you. Even when he faces you completely, he refuses to look at you.

“And I’d like you to come with me.”

Slowly, almost as if in disbelief, his blue eyes meet with yours. Through their glassiness you see an emotion he rarely ever let show; want. You didn’t need another cue.

You raise your hand to mirror the other and kiss him. Once, soft and gentle, short but not all chaste. You look to his face and find his eyes, searching for a response. Then, as if his thoughts finally caught up with him, he forces you closer and crashes his lips on yours.

Years of pent of emotions finally break free as his mouth moves against yours. His fingers dig into your midsection and push your pelvis closer to his. Your every breath is stolen by him, but you’re more than happy to share.

You’re so lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours, you don’t notice his hands withdrawing from your waist. They soon find your hold on his face and he peels them off as he reluctantly breaks away from you. Holding your hands in his, he brings them between you and looks at you with sad, mournful eyes.

In a voice much too weak for a hardened man like him, he asks, “What about Michael?”

You shake your head. “I’m not with Michael anymore.”

He looks surprised to hear that. Truly, he was. Michael wasn’t perfect, but he was a decent enough guy. You always seemed to smile a little brighter when he was around.

“Why?” Jack asks.

Your mouth hangs open, searching for the right words to say until you remember that there was only ever one reason to why you broke it off.

“He wasn’t you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“He wasn’t you.”

Jack’s throat bobs. 

For so long, he’d willed himself not to wallow in his feelings for you, convinced himself that indulging them only made matters worse. But every time his hand wrapped around his dick he couldn’t help but imagine it was something else, wish it was you clenching around him, and he’d feel so damn guilty every time. 

It was wishful thinking that kept him going; thoughts telling him there might be hope after all, thoughts he never acted on. It was too far-fetched, he told himself. But suddenly you’re standing before him, looking at him with eyes telling him the complete opposite. You craved him just as much as he did you.

You’re holding your breath, cautious not to bite your already swollen lip.

“Jack?” you ask.

After saying nothing for far too long, he finally looks at you with a warm smile on his lips.

“Let’s get you home.”

You barely make it through the door with how Jack is kissing you. It’s so  _hungry_ , filled with the lust and passion of a man who’d wanted to do this for a very long time. And being on the exact same page, you do your best to match the intensity.

After scrambling through the door, he kicks it shut and smiles against your lips. Openly grinning as he breaks away to get a look at you. Behind his lust-blown pupils is all the love and adoration in the world, and it was all for you. With his hands on your hips, he guides you backward, continuously placing short but promiscuous kisses on your soft lips.  

They hurt. Every touch of his lips stings from the punch that made it swell in the first place, but you don’t care. The pain didn’t matter because it’s Jack giving you those kisses. All you feel is giddy with excitement, and you can’t help but giggle in-between the kisses as the two of you stumble through the hallway.

You crash against the wall and wince because  _damn,_ you might be out of the infirmary but your body still hurts. Jack’s body falls against yours, pressing you firmly into the wall as his lips travel up the side of your neck.

“Ah,  _fuck_ ,” you whine.

With a hum, he smiles against your skin. “Sweetheart,” he coos. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your stomach jumps at his words, heat coiling between your legs.

He angles his leg in between yours, thigh pressing hard against your core as he shrugs his jacket off. With a whine, you buck your hips to get more friction and you feel his hard bulge poking at your thigh, cock straining against his pants.

 _Oh fuck_.

He’s so hard, thick, and  _pulsing_ against you.

Warm, calloused fingers slip under your shirt and brush up your abdomen, leaving you gasping as shivers rush down your spine. His fingers sear across your skin and your shirt follows suit. It goes up and up until he pulls it off completely, bra coming off along with it, and you hold your breath under his burning gaze.

“Jack…” you whisper, tugging at his shirt. He leans closer until your breath brushes past his ear. “I’m going to need you out of these clothes.”

He chuckles. “With pleasure.”

The warmth of his hand surrounds your wrist and tugs it away from his shirt. He brings it lower and lower until his crotch press into the palm of your hand, and your breath hitches at the feeling of just how  _big_  he is. He’s lazily grinding into your hand, small,  _heavenly_  moans catching in your ear.

He sounds so  _good_. A voice usually reserved for meticulous words  _finally_ letting loose, releasing sultry _, rude_  sounds that send heat coursing through your veins. You close your eyes listening, lust turning into an overwhelming need as arousal pools between your legs.

Suddenly his skin is flush against yours, shirt now pooling by his feet. You can feel every one of his scars, lines and bumps raised above the rest of his skin. You want to touch them all, kiss them, and show him the same amount of affection he’s so blindly giving you.

“ _Please,_ ” you breathe, head hopelessly hitting the wall behind you. “I need you to fuck me,  _right now_.”

With a grunt, he hoists you up and digs his fingers into your thighs. “Tell me yes, sweetheart,” he rasps. “And that’s all I’ll be doing for the rest of the night.”

If he hadn’t been holding you, you would’ve fallen under your own weight then and there.

“ _Yes_. Yes,  _please_.”

His mouth snaps onto yours, muffling the yelp you make when his hands dig into your ass. He pushes away from to wall and you’re quick to wrap your arms and legs around him, holding him tightly as he carries you to the bedroom.

Leaning over the bed, he carefully lays you down before turning his attention to your chest. His mouth deftly moves past your breasts, tongue swirling over your nipple, and continues to drag down your abdomen as his fingers hook onto your pants. As he pulls them off, he leaves kisses in their wake, the stubble on his jaw lightly grazing over your skin.

“Been thinking about seeing you like this for a long time,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your heart swells. You need him  _so fucking bad_.

In response to the sound of his belt unbuckling, you shoot upwards and watch as he strips completely naked, cock finally springing free. As you’re about to drop to your knees, Jack stops you and pushes you back down on the edge of the bed. A strong hand finds your jaw and you wince at the pressure he’s placing.

“As much as I want you to…” He places his thumb on your lips, audibly groaning as you take it into your mouth. “Not this time.”

With a wet  _pop_ , he pulls his thumb from your mouth, and you lean back on your elbows as he kneels between your legs. Big, warm hands spread them wide as the flat of his tongue drags up your thigh. It leaves a long, wet trail and ends with him forcing a moan out of you as he playfully bites into your inner thigh.

His breath is hot against your core, and you can  _feel_  how wet you are as he drapes your legs over his shoulders. His tongue slides through your wetness, parting your slit until his lips finally close around your swollen nub. You let out a keen gasp and try to buck against him, but the palm of his hand press against your abdomen and holds you down even as your back arches off the bed.

His tongue swirls against you, briefly pressing between your folds and then broadly stroking up your slit. As he sucks on you, your hand finds his hair and your fingers intertwine with his white locks. You moan needily as he works his tongue faster, lapping at your wetness until you’re squirming against him.

A rough, thick finger pushes into your heat. He savors the noises you make, listening to you cry out in pleasure as he slides a second digit deep inside you. He sets a firm and steady rhythm. Fingers curling against your walls as he sucks on your clit.

“Oh my  _god_ ,” you breathe. Whilst grabbing a fistful of his hair, your fingers scrape across his scalp. An arm wraps around your thigh and pulls you closer to his face as he continues to drive you towards to the release he was so insistent on giving you. You feel his muscles tense around you in an attempt to keep you from grinding and bucking against him.

Pleading cries are caught in your throat. You’re close.  _So fucking close_. It keeps on building,  _tensing_ , until,  _finally,_  everything snaps and you cry out as your orgasm hits, body tensing as his name falls from your lips.

But Jack doesn’t stop. He keeps on going and fucks you through your orgasm. Mouth moving against you until it’s too much. Until everything turns too intense and you’re too sensitive for any more.

“S-stop… too much!” Both your hands fists his hair, fingers digging deeper into his scalp, and your body curls over his head in protest,  _needing_  him to stop.

When he finally does, you drop back down on the bed, heaving for air. He retreats his fingers and leans back on his feet, lips and chin wet with your slick. You stare at him through half-lidded eyes as he pushes his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean, shutting his eyes and even  _moaning_  as he does.

“ _Shit_ , Jack…” you breathe.

He chuckles, and his fingers brush down your thigh as he rises to his feet. They rest close to the back of your knee, barely placing any pressure when he pushes it to the side and finds his place between your legs. With a grunt, he rolls his hips. The underside of his dick moves against you and coats itself in your slick, and you shudder at the feeling of his warm, pulsing skin.

“It’s… been a while.” His head teases your entrance. “I might not be nice about this.”

You feel yourself clench at his words and look up at him with wide eyes. His strong, muscular body towers over you, eyes darkening with lust. All you want is for him to just…  _take you_.  _Fill_  you, and remove the aching need of wanting to have something  _in_  you.

“Please, just…“  You see him pinch his brows together. “Fuck me,  _please_!”

In a single thrust, he sheathes himself inside you. Dick snug against your warm, wet insides, pressing against your walls. You cry out in pleasure as he starts driving his hips into you. Meanwhile, a strong hand finds your chest, and you feel his weight press you into the mattress as he pistons in and out of you.

Each snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, and your whole face turns in pleasure; lips parting open and eyes squeezing shut. It’s a sight too pretty to part from, so Jack keeps it locked on you. The only thing tearing it away is the wet, almost  _grotesque,_  sounds of his body smacking against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Oh, fuck  _yes_.”

Dropping his gaze, he watches as you take him to the hilt, over and over again. Dick disappearing and reappearing in rapid succession. You’re moaning his name, muttering incoherent sentences that could be nothing but praise. It does nothing but goad him on, and he goes faster,  _harder_.  

“Oh, J-Jack, ohhh  _fuck_ ,” you whine. Shakily, you reach towards him. Hand finding his chest and holding it firmly against him in a weak attempt to slow him down.

He  _doesn’t_. Instead, his hand finds yours and moves it away. It gives him room to lean down and crash his lips onto yours. He pulls you into an intense and open-mouthed kiss, not caring that his teeth hit yours. It comes to an abrupt end when Jack angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you, and you break away in a desperate, broken moan.

“ _Damn_ ,” he grunts. “You sound so _good_.”

A hand snakes its way between your bodies, calloused thumb finding your clit and rubbing along with his thrusts. You’re writhing beneath him, another orgasm building between your legs.

“Ahhhng, Ja-ahck!” you plead. Though, at this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for. You claw at the sheets as he keeps rutting into you. Tension growing at a rate much faster than you’re comfortable with.

“Let me hear you,” he orders. You  _do_. Moaning uncontrollably as his cock pounds you into the mattress. “ _God._ Just like that, sweetheart.”

All it takes is his thumb pressing against your clit in another hard circle. And just like that, you’re pulled over the edge a second time, choking his name. Your body spasms and your toes curl as waves of pleasure sweep through you. Your mind goes completely blank, and it takes you a second to realize that Jack  _still_  hadn’t come.

On either side of your head, his hands entwine with your hair. He’s tugging and pulling, cock still ramming into you in search of his own release. His forehead press against yours and every one of his grunts and growls are swallowed by your gaping mouth.

“Aaah,  _fuck_ ,” he growls, twitching against your sensitive walls.

“J-Jack…!” you whimper. “I-it’s… too much…”

He rolls his body into yours, thrusts turning erratic, and slams his eyes shut. Abs tightening as he feels the familiar pull low in his gut.

“I’m close,” he says. “I’m so… fucking… close.”

You  _know_ he is because you can feel the frown on his face deepening, hear his moans pitching. His dick twitches again and with a final slam of his hips, he spills inside you. Filling you with his cum. The weight of his body presses you firmly into the mattress as his body slumps against you. He feels warm and safe, and you’d give anything to stay like this.

It takes him a long time to stop panting. When he finally does, his blue orbs open to meet with yours. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

With his forehead still resting on yours, you reach for his lips and pull him into a slow, loving kiss. “Doesn’t matter,” you say.

He chuckles weakly before paying you a kiss in return, mouth lazily moving against yours. After a few minutes, he pulls out of you and grunts as he raises to his full height. You feel your body ache when you try to do the same.

“Good thing I’m on medical leave,” you joke.

Jack looks down on you with a lopsided smile “Guess I’ll have to take care of you, then.”

You didn’t mind that at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [waddyaknow](https://waddyaknow.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
